


Vengeance is Mine

by SunnyInOregon



Series: The Justice Series [2]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Case Fic, F/M, Minor Character Death, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-05-08 12:01:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14693805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnyInOregon/pseuds/SunnyInOregon
Summary: It’s Halloween and Dave finds himself helping an old friend. A simple case of murder turns into something deeper when things get personal and Dave goes looking for revenge. Reference "Damaged" from Season 3, episode 14.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Takes place sometime in season 6 before Prentiss “dies”. Garcia calls Dave, “Tom”. That is not a mistake, it’s an inside joke between the two characters from the previous story, And Justice for All.

The evening was late when Dave pulled into his driveway. He had spent the majority of Halloween night with Penelope Garcia running around to hospitals handing out small toys and coloring books with crayons to the sick children who couldn't go trick or treating. At first he had been reluctant to go as she insisted they dress up, and then she told him she wanted to be an old west saloon girl and he could be the Sheriff, so he was more than happy to go along. He was surprised that she hadn't cornered the rest of the team into going as well.

"Where's everyone else?" Dave asked as he approached her car in the parking lot of hospital.

"There is no one else Sheriff Sweetness," she smiled as she climbed out of her car.

He frowned at her. "You couldn't talk anyone else into helping?"

"I didn't ask anyone else," she replied as she lifted a box out of the trunk of her car and handed it to him. She eyed his costume. "Nice weapon you got there."

He glanced down at his side. "That's an 1847 Colt Walker – original."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Does it work?"

"Yes," he replied somewhat defensively.

"Will you let me handle it?" she asked.

His frown deepened. "You don't like guns, Blondie."

She smirked as she reached out to fiddle with his belt buckle. "I wasn't talking about the gun, David."

It was his turn to grin. "Easy ma'am, that weapon is loaded."

They spent the rest of the evening sharing teasing remarks and flirtatious looks as they entertained the kids. Dave was hoping the evening would end with the two of them at her apartment however; JJ had called and begged Pen to come over. It was with some sadness that they had said good night and gone their separate ways. Dave had started to get out of his car when he spotted a figure huddled on his doorstep.

He fingered the handgrip of the Colt for a moment before he remembered it wasn't loaded. His service weapon was in the house. The figure on the porch hadn't moved when he pulled into the driveway briefly he hoped it wasn't some Halloween trick or treater waiting him out for candy. He didn't have any. He exited his car and approached the figure. The person had their arms wrapped around their knees and their head was bent.

"Hello," he said evenly.

The head popped up. "Agent Rossi?"

He peered into the darkness, he recognized that voice. "Connie?"

She sniffled and nodded her head.

"What are you doing here?" he asked perplexed. "Shouldn't you be in Indianapolis?"

"I need your help," she cried. He moved closer and in the moonlight he could see the tears on her face. "I'm in trouble."

"Let's go inside," Dave said as he put his arm around her shoulders and helped her to her feet. He unlocked the door and led her inside then disarmed and reset the alarm after closing and locking the door. "Give me your coat."

She peeled off the garment and handed it to him. He stood there staring at her.

"What?" she asked self-consciously.

"You're wearing a costume," he said blandly.

"It's Halloween," she reminded him. "Besides, you're wearing one too."

"Did you wear that on the airplane?"

"What makes you think I took an airplane?" she asked as she turned around to show her back to him. "I have my own wings, maybe I flew myself."

"Your wings are crushed," he told her softly. "What are you suppose to be? A dragonfly?"

"Dragonfly!" she repeated indignantly.

"What else is green with wings?" he questioned as he hung up her coat.

"I'm Tinkerbell," she huffed.

"Did you bring a change of clothes, Tinkerbell?"

She slid her arms around herself again and shook her head. "I didn't have time."

She started to tremble. Dave stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her holding her close. "It's okay. You're safe now."

He held her for a few minutes then pulled back to look at her face. "Why don't we go upstairs and find you something else to wear and then you can tell me what is going on."

"Okay," she agreed.

Together they went upstairs and rummaged through his closet for a suitable outfit. She settled on an old FBI t-shirt and sweatpants. He showed her the guest suite and left her to her own devices as he went back to his room to change clothes as well. He locked the Colt in his gun safe and changed into a sweater and jeans. He stepped into the hallway at the same time as Connie.

"Are you hungry?" he asked as they headed back downstairs.

"A little," she admitted quietly.

"Come on, I'll fix you an omelet."

They went to the kitchen and Dave set about cooking food. Connie settled onto a stool and watched him.

"Talk to me," he said softly. "What's going on?"

"I'm in some trouble," she said softly.

"I'm listening," he said as he cracked eggs into a bowl.

"I saw a murder," she whispered.

Dave looked up from the bowl. "Did you call the police?"

She shook her head. "I was too scared. They saw me and one of them said 'Get her!' I turned and ran. Luckily there was a cab and I jumped in and told him to go to the airport as fast as he could. All I could think was that I needed to get away."

"So you got on a plane and came here?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Do you know these guys?" he questioned.

She sucked in a shaky breath. "One of them lives near me and they are all into drugs."

"Dealing or using?"

"Both I think," she replied. "I see them selling all of the time. I can't go back there."

Dave set the bowl on the counter. "What about Georgie and Alicia? Are they safe?"

Connie nodded. "Alicia is in school in California and Georgie joined the Army."

Dave narrowed his gaze at her. "We need to work on your communications skills. In all the conversations we've had you have never mentioned any of this."

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"I'll survive," he conceded. "What do you want in your omelet? Mushrooms? Cheese? Tomatoes? Bacon?"

"Yes," she said shortly.

He quirked a smile at her. "One omelet with the works coming up. Meanwhile, you tell me what happened and don't leave anything out."

"Yes Dad."

Dave chuckled and gave her a genuine smile. He waved a spatula at her. "Start talking."

 


	2. Chapter 2

Grabbing her overcoat as she rushed out the door, Connie adjusted the straps for her wings while she hurried down the street to the bus stop. She was running a little late but if she caught the 5:10 bus she would get to her friend’s house with a few minutes to spare. The streets wet, from a late afternoon shower, glistened under the street lights. A gentle breeze blew scattered leaves through her legs as she continued on her way.

She passed an empty house, dark and dirty, the windows on the first floor were gone, glass scattered across the grass and dirt. A muffled moan caught her attention. She slowed to a stop and peered into the darkness on the side of the house. Two men stood over the form of another who was rolling back and forth in an attempt to avoid their well-placed kicks.

"Enough screwing around," one of the men growled. Horrified she watched as a weapon appeared. There was a gunshot and the man on the ground stopped moving.

"Fucking bastard," the other man spat as he kicked the body once again.

"Let's get out of here," the first man said. He turned towards the street and froze as his eyes met hers.

Her heart beat loudly in her ears and time seemed to stop as panic suddenly set in. Connie began to run down the sidewalk. Fear spurring her to run faster than she thought possible in high heels. She could hear footsteps closing in behind her. She turned the corner to the main road and looked for a place to hide or find help. Across the street she spotted a cab sitting next to the curb.

Blindly she bolted across the street. Yanking the back door open she dove inside. "Go! Drive! Fast!" she yelled in a rush as she slammed the door. The driver seemingly used to such panic from his passengers responded without question. The cab peeled away from the curb. Connie turned and looked over her shoulder at the two men standing in the middle of the street. She knew them. They were the local drug dealers that lived across the street from her.

She settled into the seat and stared at the ceiling. She couldn't go home. What the hell was she going to do?

"Any place in particular you want to go?" the cabbie asked.

She met his gaze in the rearview mirror then turned to look out the side window at the passing scenery. "Take me to the airport," she said quietly.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"So, you know these guys?" Dave asked.

"Not by name but I could pick them out in a police lineup," Connie replied.

Dave stood up and walked over to the phone. "We need to call the police."

Connie sat in silence as Dave contacted the police department in Indianapolis. She listened as he explained the situation to a detective named Willis. Nervously she picked at the napkin she was holding tearing it into smaller and smaller pieces until Dave hung up the phone and re-joined her.

"Well?" she asked.

"They're sending a unit out to check the area," he told her. "Willis is going to call me back."

Dave cleaned off the table and began rinsing the dishes and putting them into the dishwasher as they waited. It wasn't long before the phone rang again.

"Rossi… yes… are you sure? … yeah, I know. No. Call me if you get anything new, okay? Thanks."

"What did he say?" Connie asked anxiously.

He sighed and leaned against the counter facing her. "They didn't find anything."

"What? That can't be right," she denied halfway rising from her seat. "I know what I saw."

He held up his hands in front of him. "I believe you. I'm not saying you were wrong," he said placating. "I'm saying they didn't find anything."

"But…how? I don't understand."

"I'm certain that those two guys went back and cleaned up after themselves," he explained. "If you recognized them then they probably recognized you too. I'll bet we find an empty house where they were living. They have probably packed up and beat a hasty retreat."

"You think so?" she asked as she sat back down.

"I can almost guarantee it," he smiled gently. "In fact, I'll send someone to check in the morning, okay?"

She nodded slowly. "You don't think they will come back?"

"I doubt it," he stated.

She leaned back in her chair and relaxed for the first time that night. "I'm sorry I bothered you."

"After all this time do you really think you could bother me?"

She smiled at him. "No. I guess not. When do you think it would be okay for me to go home?"

"Whenever you feel ready," he replied. "There's no rush."

"Considering I have nothing to wear I think sooner would be better than later," she laughed.

He shrugged. "We could go shopping if you want."

She shook her head. "I can't afford it and you've already been more than generous."

He stared at her for a moment. "I've always felt like you, Georgie, and Alicia were my kids or at least favorite nieces and nephew. Taking care of you is part of my life now."

"Well I can't speak for Georgie or Alicia, but I know I've always thought of you as a favorite Uncle. Other than our Grandmother you were the only one who cared," she said sadly.

"We should call it a night I think," Dave said abruptly. "I don't know about you but I'm tired."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The next morning Dave's contact confirmed that the drug dealers had moved out and that they still didn't have a shooting victim. Dave drove Connie to the airport and put her on an early flight home before heading to Quantico.

"You're late," Penelope admonished when he walked into the bullpen.

"I had a late-night visitor," he told her. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"A female visitor?" she questioned. He smiled at her show of jealousy.

"Connie Galen."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "That name sounds familiar."

"Indianapolis, twenty-year-old murder, parents killed," he listed.

"Ah, I remember," she smiled. She fingered a button on his shirt. "What is she doing in town?"

"Hiding," he said shortly. "She thinks she witnessed a murder. Two suspects chased her, but she found a cab and escaped. I was the safest place she could think of."

"She must not know you very well," she teased.

He grabbed her hand and kissed her wandering fingers. "Very funny, Red. Is anything going on that I need to know about?"

"You're just in time for the briefing," she announced. She laced her fingers in his and tugged him towards the conference room.

The team spent the next three days in St. Louis working on a murder case. Local police were baffled as dead women kept being found hanging from the arch. Through technology and intuition, they were able to track down a recently terminated city worker who had a grudge against his former boss.

It was mid-morning when the team returned home. They filed out of the elevator and thru the double glass doors into the bullpen where Penelope stood waiting for them.

"Hey Baby Girl," Morgan greeted cheerfully.

"Hey," she replied solemnly.

Morgan stopped to look at her. "Are you okay?"

"Huh?" she asked distractedly.

"Garcia?" Hotch questioned.

Her eyes remained firmly on Dave who was at the back of the group.

"I think someone missed her boyfriend," JJ teased as she walked by. Garcia ignored everyone.

"David," she said quietly as he approached.

Dave frowned as he stopped in front of her. "What's the matter?"

"The Indianapolis police called for you," she told him.

"They found a body," he said knowingly.

She nodded. "It's Connie Galen."

Dave paled. "What?"

Penelope reached out and grabbed his arm. "I am so sorry."

"Fuck!" he swore angrily.


	3. Chapter 3

Penelope briefed the team after Dave stormed off to his office and slammed the door shut. His voice could be heard through the walls as he yelled followed by several crashes and thumps. Penelope's voice trembled as she spoke to the team. Her thoughts strayed to the man she loved. She hadn't told him yet, but she knew she was deeply in love with him. David Rossi evoked emotions in her that no other man had ever come close to doing.

Once the excitement over the Mathers' fiasco had settled, she thought that their relationship would return to being just friends. Boy was she wrong. Dave continued to woo her, taking her to places she dreamed about but had never been including a long weekend in New York. If anyone objected to their relationship she had no idea as Dave dealt with the naysayers. Even her best friend Derek seemed to approve in their new coupledom.

"Do we have anything pressing waiting?" Hotch asked when Pen finished.

She swallowed hard and shook her head as her eyes strayed to the closed oak door.

"Gear up people, we're going to Indianapolis," Hotch announced.

The team spread out and started getting ready to leave again. As everyone moved around her, Penelope took a deep breath and continued to stare at the closed door. Slowly she made her way up the ramp. Hotch stepped out of his office and stopped her at the top.

"You should wait," Hotch suggested.

She shook her head. "He needs me."

Hotch made a face at her that she supposed was a smile but looked like a grimace. "I know Dave better than you. Trust me; give him a few more minutes."

"All due respect Hotch you may have known Dave longer, but you don't know him the way I do," she corrected. "He needs me right now."

She left him standing there as she continued down the catwalk to Dave's door. She grabbed the door handle twisted it and pushed the door open not waiting to ask for permission to enter. The room was a disaster zone. Dave had cleared his desk with a sweep of his arm, furniture had been upended and papers were strewn everywhere. Dave stood on the far side of the room staring out the window.

"I killed her," he whispered hoarsely without turning around. His whole body was trembling. "I told her it was safe, and I sent her home… to die."

"David," she said softly her own heart breaking for him. Whether he heard her or not, she couldn't tell.

"I shouldn't have let her go home without knowing where those bastards went," he continued vehemently. "I should have gone there myself and found them."

"You are not to blame for this," Pen tried to reason.

"Then who is?" he yelled suddenly as he spun to face her. Tears streaked his ruddy face and his hair looked like a tornado landed on it. "She came to me for protection and I didn't take care of her."

"You did the best you could," she replied.

"I did the least I could," he admitted harshly. "I made a phone call – big deal. I knew that those people in that department didn't care; I knew they wouldn't look very hard to check out her story. Shit! Look at how badly they handled her parents' murders! A bunch of incompetent pricks is what they are."

She bit her lips refusing to be baited into a fight. He wanted to hurt someone as much as he was hurting. She walked into the room knowing this, but she refused to allow it to happen. Slowly moving across the debris scattered room she tried to reason with him. "Let's say you did go there but you didn't find anything either, then what? Were you going to make her stay with you forever?"

He clenched his jaw and didn't reply as she stopped in front of him and reached a hand out and laid it on his arm.

"I know you try hard to be everyone's savior, but you can't be," she told him. Her voice was so soft he had to stay quiet to hear her. "David, there is nothing you could have done to prevent this. I know that you know that as well, right?"

He pressed his lips harder and shook his head in denial.

"Deny it all you want Babe. You need to accept the fact that you were NOT responsible for her death and start concentrating on finding the people who are responsible."

He stared at her wordlessly for several seconds before he relaxed and pulled her into an embrace. She wrapped her arms around his waist as he buried his face in her hair.

"What would I do without you?" he asked after a few minutes had passed.

She pulled back enough to look at his face. "You would be a menace to society."

He grinned sadly at her. "I still am," he agreed. "But it would be so much worse if you weren't here."

She settled back into his embrace. "I'm not going anywhere, my love."

"Good," he said as he kissed her head. "If anything were to happen to you I couldn't be held accountable for my actions."

"Lucky for the world then that I am not going anywhere," she smiled into his chest.

"Speaking of going – I need to let Hotch know that I'm going to Indianapolis."

"The team is waiting for us on the jet," she announced.

He pulled back and frowned at her. "What?"

"Hotch already has the team geared up for the flight. And I am going as well."

"You stay here," Dave ordered.

She shook her head. "Afraid not mi amore. You need me, and I need to be with you."

"Penelope," he sighed.

She stepped out of his arms and headed for the door. "There is no use in us arguing David, I'm going."

"I wasn't going to argue with you," he denied.

"Good," she said as she turned around and smiled as she reached the door. "Give me five minutes to gather my gear and I'll ride with you to the airport. Don't try to leave without me."

"Perish the thought," he stated softly.

She opened the door and began to leave when his voice stopped her once again. "Yes?" she asked as she turned around.

"I love you," he said solemnly.

She felt her heart jump in her chest as the words sank in. "I love you too."

"Get your stuff," he said gently. "I'll meet you in the bullpen."

She nodded and stepped out of his office in a haze. Barely aware of her surroundings she was startled when a hand landed on her arm.

"Baby Girl are you okay?" Derek asked.

She looked up at him and blinked.

"Are you okay?" he repeated.

"Garcia?" Hotch said equally concerned.

"I'm fine," she stammered once she regained her senses.

"How is Dave?" Emily asked gently.

Penelope turned to look at her and assessed the concern on her face. Then she looked at the rest of the team who were wearing similar expressions. She frowned at them. "Why are you all so glum?"

"We're concerned," JJ stated. "We know how Dave can be and you just walked into the hornet’s nest."

"You came out looking like your world had just fallen apart," Emily pointed out.

"Huh?"

"Garcia, did Dave say something to you?" Hotch asked.

She smiled slowly and nodded her head. "He said he loved me. Isn't that great?"


	4. Chapter 4

**The Jet**

 

The silence on the plane is quite palpable. Dave sits in the back by himself, brooding as he stares out the window. JJ and Hotch had spoken to the Indianapolis police department and were successful in getting an invitation to help on the case. The Chief of Police was surprised that the FBI would concern itself over one murder, soon understood the gravity of the death. Connie Galen had been family to David Rossi and David was family to the FBI.

 

Dave stands abruptly and paces to where the others sit.

 

“I’m leading this investigation,” he announces suddenly. All eyes jump from him to Hotch, whom gazes at Dave steadily. “I know you’re the SAC, but…”

 

Hotch shakes him off. “That’s fine. I understand how important this is to you. The only thing I ask is that you treat the leo’s nice.”

 

“I can’t talk to them right now,” Dave acquiesces. “If I do…”

 

Hotch chuckles without humor. “Thank you for recognizing that. So, what’s your plan?”

 

“Morgan and JJ go to the scene. See what you can find. Spencer and Emily check out Connie’s house. Hotch, take Penelope and get us set up at the police station,” Dave lays out.

 

“What about you?” Hotch inquires.

 

“I’m going to the morgue,” Dave sighs.

 

“I’m going with you,” Garcia says from the couch where she sits next to JJ. Dave turns to her.

 

“No Kitten,” he says softly.

 

She rises and pokes him in the chest. “Listen Tom! You are not going there alone, capisce?”

 

“I’m in charge Penelope,” he reminds her.

 

“You might be in charge of this case but you’re not in charge of me,” she growls. “Understand?”

 

He sighs. “Have you ever been to a morgue?”

 

“No. But I am finding my life with you to be full of new things.”

 

The rest of the team sits in amused silence waiting to see how this plays out. Dave glances at them before turning back to Penelope. “Fine. Morgan can go to the crime scene alone. You and JJ set up at the police station and Hotch can come with me. Better?”

 

She nods. He stomps back to his seat, ignoring the rest of the team. Hotch looks up at Garcia, a smile on his lips and a glint in his eyes.

 

“You have to be the bravest woman I have ever known,” he tells her.

 

She frowns. “Why do you say that?”

 

“You’re the first woman who doesn’t back down to him,” Hotch explains.

 

“I’m not afraid of him,” she says softly, her eyes seek out David over the top of the seats.

 

“You’re his Achilles heel,” Hotch mutters.

 

“I’m sorry?” She questions.

 

“You’re his soft spot,” Hotch continues.

 

“You think so,” she replies softly. She walks away from the team to David. She settles onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. They say nothing to each other as Dave wraps his arms around her and holds her tight.

 

“I have a question,” Spencer said softly. “Why did she call him, Tom?”

 

Aaron chuckles as the rest of the team look thoughtful.

 

**Indianapolis Police Department**

 

JJ and Penelope enter the police station. JJ flashes her badge at the desk officer.

 

“I’m Jennifer Jareau. We’re here to see Captain Montgomery,” she smiles.

 

“Down the hall, third door on the left,” the officer instructs. The two women continue on the journey in silence. They walk into a large bullpen.

 

“Agent Jareau.”

 

JJ and Penelope look to the left at the detective who spoke.

 

He stands. “I’m Detective Willis.”

 

JJ shakes his hand. “I remember. This is our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia.”

 

“The minute I found out that Connie Galen had been killed I demanded to have the case,” he states sadly. “I can only imagine how Agent Rossi is feeling. Where is he? Is he coming?”

 

JJ nods. “He went to the morgue. The team’s spread out right now but they will all be here soon.”

 

“I’ve got you guys set up in the conference room. Let me take you there.” He leads them a spacious room with a large table. “Let me know what you need.”

 

“Thank you very much,” JJ acknowledges. “We’ll be fine for now.”

 

Penelope sits at the table and starts setting up her laptop.

 

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” JJ says.

 

“I’m just trying to figure out the best way to help David. He’s in a lot of pain right now.”

 

“Just keep being you,” JJ advises. “Hotch was right, you are David Rossi’s soft spot.”

 

Penelope smiles sadly and shakes her head. “I can’t imagine him having any kind of soft spot.”

 

“The way he looks at you… Makes me kind of jealous.”

 

“Jealous? Have you seen the way Will looks at you?” Penelope fires back.

 

JJ sighs and smiles. “I love Will and I wouldn’t trade him for anyone.” She pauses for effect. “But he’s no David Rossi.”

 

Penelope laughs. “Thank the Lord. The world couldn’t handle a second one.”

 

**The Galen House**

 

Reid and Emily pull up and park in front of the dilapidated house. A fresh coat of paint had been applied since Emily had last been there with Dave, Morgan and JJ.

 

Reid stands on the sidewalk and looks around at the neighborhood. “This was either a nice neighborhood at one time or its on its way to becoming one,” he mused.

 

Emily glances around as well. “It looked nicer the last time I was here.”

 

“Drugs can bring a neighborhood down faster than anything else,” Reid murmurs. “Didn’t you say they had a second house?”

 

He follows her up the walkway to the front door. Emily nods.

 

“It was the parent’s house,” she explains as she opens the front door and steps inside between the lines of police tape. “Dave had been holding on to it all those years.”

 

“And he just gave it to them?”

 

“Yeah,” she breaths. She stops inside the door where he joins her. They take in the scene before them; broken furniture, scratch marks - the place is a mess.

 

“They must have been waiting here in the house for her to return,” Reid observes.

 

“Which means they knew she lived alone,” Emily continues.

 

“I wonder how they got in?”

 

“The police report said the basement door had been kicked in,” Emily replies. “Maybe we should start down there?”

 

Reid nods and follows her through the house.

 

**The crime scene**

 

Morgan climbs out of his SUV and identifies himself to the patrol officer standing by the scene.

 

“The body was found back there,” the officer states broadly. “Just follow the path. You’ll know when you find it.”

 

Derek says nothing as he traverses the path. He walks along the dirt for several hundred yards before coming to a small circle of trees covered in blood and brain matter. He ponders the scene for several minutes.

 

“They wrapped a rope around her torso, right up under her arms and strung her into the air about ten feet.”

 

Derek turns to look at the older, large, black man who had joined him. The man takes a puff on a fat stogie.

 

“I’m Pete Wilson,” the man introduces himself. “I’m with the crime lab.”

 

“SSA Derek Morgan.”

 

They shake hands.

 

“It was one of the craziest things I’ve ever seen,” Wilson continues. “She looked like a fairy hanging up there. It was a windy day and she was floating back and forth. She had a Tinkerbell costume on. Some kids were out riding their bikes and thought they had stumbled upon something amazing.”

 

“How did she die?” Derek asks.

 

“Shotgun blast to the back of the head,” Wilson replies grimly.

 

Derek takes in the surroundings. This copse of trees was right next to the path; however, it was far enough from the road not to be seen by just anyone passing by.

 

“You get a lot of these things out here,” Derek inquires.

 

“Surprisingly, no. You’d think what, with how secluded this area is we would have a lot of murders or suicides here,” Wilson muses. “However, the surrounding neighborhoods are pretty affluent, and they have roving security guards.”

 

“Did anyone see anything?”

 

Wilson shakes his head. “No one has come forward so far.”

 

 

**The Morgue**

 

The morgue, like so many others, was located in the basement. Hotch and Dave walk silently, side by side, down the empty corridor. They stop at the Inquiry window. Hotch jams at the bell as no one is sitting at the window. He glances at Dave.

 

“You sure you’re up to this,” he inquires.

 

Dave glares at him.

 

A woman in her 20’s wearing a blue smock opens the window. “Can I help you?”

 

Hotch pulls out his I.D. and shows it to her. “SSA’s Hotchner and Rossi. We’re here to see Connie Galen.”

 

The woman nods. “Come on in.” She buzzes the nearby door. Hotch and Dave enter the back room and follow her down a hallway. She leads them into an examination room. A body, covered by a sheet, lays on one of the tables. The woman leaves through another door, motioning for them to stay.

 

A motherly looking older woman enters the room.

 

“Dr. Elaine Fisher,” she says in introduction. They exchange greetings. Hotch introduces both himself and Dave. “You sure you want to see the body? It’s not a pretty sight.”

 

“We’ve seen dead bodies before,” Dave assures her.

 

“I’m sure you have,” she replies knowingly. “But I’ve been told that this is personal for one of you.”

 

Dave and Hotch exchange a look.

 

“Garcia,” Dave growls.

 

Hotch fights a smile. He nods at the medical examiner. “We’ll be fine.”

 

“Well, if you’re not, please throw up in the trash can,” she urges. “We just mopped in here.”

 

She pulls back the sheet exposing the top half of the body. Both men step forward. Dave immediately pales.

 

“What the hell…” he begins.

 

“She was shot in the back of the head with a shotgun,” Dr. Wilson explains. “I’m actually surprised her head didn’t come off.”

 

Half of the neck, the back of the head and all of the face is missing from the body. Dave struggles to breathe, to think, to do anything. His mind races with guilt and grief.

 

Silently, he storms out of the room. He paces the hallway; five steps left, turn around. Five steps right, turn around. Repeat.

 

Several minutes later, the door to autopsy opens and Hotch exits the room. Dave stops pacing looks up at his friend.

 

“I fucking killed her,” he chokes out. Hotch puts a hand on the older man’s shoulder.

 

“No, you didn’t,” Hotch says calmly.

 

Dave pushes him away, he resumes pacing.

 

“We’re going to find the bastards that did this, Dave. You and I - we’re going to find them.”

 

“Damn right we will.” Dave breathes heavily. Tears glint on his ruddy cheeks. He stops pacing and scowls at Aaron.

 

The younger man glares right back at him. “Are you going to be alright?”

 

“I’m okay,” Dave barks in return. He reaches into the right front pocket of his pants and pulls out a gold bracelet. He stares at the bracelet, rubbing his thumb over the trinket with Connie printed on it.

 

“Yeah? You still blaming yourself,” Hotch asked.

 

“It is my fault,” Dave concurs.

 

Hotch nods. “And Haley’s death was my fault.”

 

Dave’s head snaps up as he regards his friend through slit eyes. “There was nothing you could have done.”

 

“I could have taken the deal,” Hotch counters.

 

“No. That bastard still would have come after you.”

 

“And the guys who killed Connie, still would have come after her,” Hotch points out. “Yeah, she could have moved or gone into witness protection but there wasn’t and still isn’t any proof that what she said happened, happened.”

 

“I trust her word,” Dave argues.

 

“I know,” Hotch agrees. “At some point, that body will show up too. But for now, we only have Connie. I need you to turn off Dad mode and go into profiler mode. I know you’re grieving but …”

 

Dave nods. “Those bastards are going to pay, Aaron. I swear on my Grandmother’s grave they will pay. And when I find them, not only will they be wishing they had never been born, they’ll be wishing their Mothers and their Mother’s mothers had not been born either.”

 

“How very Italian of you,” Hotch growls.

 

Hotch grimly watches as Dave’s demeanor turns from guilt to determination.


End file.
